


Ain't it the Life of You, Your Lighting of the Blaze?

by Single_Starling



Series: Witchy Women - A Practical Magic/Charmed AU [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Beltane, Cassian is happy to volunteer, F/M, Felt like writing some smut, Nesta needs to fuck to recharge her power, Ritual Magic, Sex Magic, Witchy Women companion piece, and also I missed these witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Single_Starling/pseuds/Single_Starling
Summary: On the eve of Beltane, six months after the events of Witchy Women, Nesta notices her powers have been fading. The solution? A fertility ritual, under the full moon, on the holiday centering around fertility and recharging for the coming year. Cassian's only too happy to assist.Or,Nesta needs to do some sex magic in the woods, and Cassian's down to get witchy.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Series: Witchy Women - A Practical Magic/Charmed AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933054
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61
Collections: Witchy Women - A Practical Magic/Charmed AU





	Ain't it the Life of You, Your Lighting of the Blaze?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back guys, I couldn’t stay away. Here’s a guilty pleasure lil smut scene, feat. Beltane, one of the horniest holidays on the wheel of the year. This is blatantly unedited. I have no regrets whatsoever.
> 
> This one-shot brought to you by:  
> -False God, Taylor Swift  
> -Be, Hozier  
> -NFWMB, Hozier  
> -Talk, Hozier  
> -First Love/Late Spring, Mitski  
> -When I Get My Hands On You, Mumford & Sons, the New Basement Tapes

_ Religion's in your lips  
Even if it's a false god  
We'd still worship  
We might just get away with it  
The altar is my hips  
Even if it's a false god  
We'd still worship this love  
_

_ -False God, Taylor Swift _

_If I was born as a blackthorn tree_  
_I'd wanna be felled by you_  
_Held by you_  
_Fuel the pyre of your enemies_

_Ain't it warming you, the world gone up in flames?_  
_Ain't it the life you, your lighting of the blaze?_

_-NFWMB, Hozier_

The smell of late spring wafted across the clearing as Nesta gathered bundles of primrose and marigold; fresh grass, loamy earth, and hints of the sea. Elain and Feyre directed the Knight brothers in chopping and stacking wood by the firepit, in preparation for the Beltane bonfire.

She paused to watch Cassian, shirtless, muscles glistening as he swung an axe, splitting logs with ease. On his back flashed twin tattoos, black wings stretching across the broad expanse of his shoulders. On Azriel and Rhys’s backs, similar tattoos rippled as they moved and stacked wood. Elain caught her eye, glanced at the brothers, and waggled her eyebrows. Nesta bit back a grin. 

As if feeling her gaze on him, Cassian looked up, hair sweaty and sticking to his neck, and caught Nesta’s eyes. He smiled slowly, eyes lazy, and propped the axe on his shoulder. “Something I can help you with, sweetheart?”

Nesta rolled her eyes, and pretending she  _ wasn’t  _ blushing beet red, ignoring the tingles his heated gaze ignited in her core. “No.”

“You sure?” Cassian asked. “You’re looking a little-”

“Irritated?” Nesta snapped.

“No,” Cassian lifted the axe again, and she bit back a groan at how his biceps flexed with the effort. “ _ Thirsty. _ ”

Nesta couldn’t decide whether she wanted to jump him or murder him, so Elain stepped in.

“Lemonade, coming right up,” she said, heading towards the house. “I think it’s time for a break.”

“It’s definitely break time for Cassian,” Rhys called, leaning against the stone altar, an arm loosely wrapped around Feyre’s shoulders. “Take a walk, bro.”

Cassian whipped his head to glare at his brother. “You’re one to talk.”

“Feyre and I don’t eyefuck each other in public.”

“Yes _ , _ you _ do _ ,” Azriel said, sounding aggrieved.

“No we don’t!”

“Rhys,” Nesta began. “Let me put it this way. The next time I catch you staring at my sister, you’re going to lose your eyeballs until you learn to behave.”

Rhys swallowed. “Like… take them away? And give them back? Is that even possible?”

Nesta grinned. “Are you volunteering to find out?”

“She’s kidding,” Feyre glared at her sister. “I’ll hex her first.”

Nesta sneered. “With what magic? You can barely cast a cantrip these days.”

Feyre fisted her hands. “After Beltane, it’s on.” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like you’re conjuring bonfires right now.”

Nesta looked away. It was true; it was six months past Samhain, and she’d noticed her magic was less… explosive than it used to be.

It happened in spurts at first. A spell gone wrong here, a potion unfinished there. And then, her fyre started to fade.

_ “It’s the cycle of the year,”  _ Mor had told her. “ _ You just need a good charge to get your magic back on track?” _

_ “How do I do that?”  _ Nesta had asked.

Amren had grinned, teeth sharp.  _ “A fertility rite. For your power.” _

_ “And that would be…?” _

Nesta had nearly choked when they grinned at her and said in tandem,  _ “sex magic.” _

Now, watching Cassian struggle into his t-shirt, an ache began to grow between her legs. Beltane was a few days away, heralding the coming of summer, and the abundance that came with it, was the perfect time for sex magic. And hopefully, replenishing her depleted stores.

Azriel, Rhys and Feyre followed Elain towards the house, and Nesta took the opportunity to walk towards Cassian, an extra sway to her hips. He leaned the axe against the chopping block, watching her approach, eyes locked on her. His fiery eyes, the eyes she’d dreamt of for years. Finally hers.

“Actually,” she said, reaching up to stroke his shoulders, his biceps. He tugged her into him, hands warm and heavy against her back. “There  _ is _ something you can do for me.”

“And what would that be?”

“Beltane’s coming up,” Nesta said. “And I need your help.”

Cassian’s hands drifted lower, cupping her rear. “What kind of help, sweetheart?”

“I need to do a spell,” Nesta said. “But it’s not… a solo spell.”

“What do you need?” Cassian asked, suddenly serious. “Blood?”

“No,” Nesta looked him in the eyes. “For Beltane, there’s a ritual I need to do, to get my magic working. This spell is supposed to draw down the moon’s power and charge my own.”

“What kind of ritual?”

“A fertility rite.”

Cassian raised a brow.

“Sex magic,” Nesta said, and allowed herself a brief moment, pressing herself against her lover. “You and me, in the moonlight.”

Cassian grinned. “That, I’ll do for free.”

***

On the night of Beltane, Nesta and Cassian went into the forest, out of sight of the clearing, for privacy. The privacy wasn’t just for them; Elain and Feyre had managed to convince Azriel and Rhysand to strip completely, dancing around the huge bonfire they’d built in the backyard, a maypole standing tall in the shadows.

They’d spent the day winding ribbons around the pole, baking and dancing, weaving flower wreaths, and taking time to tend the garden and themselves, metaphorically and physically sowing seeds to be reaped in the fall.

The full moon trailed behind them as they forged through the brush, leaves rustling in the early May breeze. Once she felt sure they were far enough, Nesta paused, and with visible effort, cast a circle of flame around them. She strew gorse and hawthorn, hazel and rowan, in the circle, to further honor the holiday, and nodded to Cassian to begin stripping.

Even after six months together, Nesta still felt twinges of unease when she was intimate with Cassian. He’d never been anything but gentle, all tender caresses and soft words. She’d never felt anything but safe. And that, she treasured more than anything.

At first, Cassian had been thrown off by her magic. Small spells were cause for alarm, then wonder. Now, he was nonplussed to come home to the house on the hill to find Nesta and her aunts or her sisters, if they were visiting (which they did, often), in the kitchen, cackling. A cauldron always bubbled and candles melted, and that strange dusty book open on the counter among jars and bottles and dried herbs.

(He thought moving into the Archeron house to be with Nesta would be awkward at best, with the aunts lurking. But they traveled often, bantered even more frequently, and the house became his home, unlike any other place he’d lived.)

Suffice it to say, Cassian became comfortable with witchcraft.

Standing in front of Nesta, now naked, in a circle of fire, he felt a thrill run down his spine. She was beautiful in the moonlight. He ran his hand down her arm, and she visibly relaxed. “You’re in charge, here, sweetheart,” he said. “Just show me what to do.”

“Here,” she murmured, urging him to his knees in front of her. He didn’t protest, just faced her, hands at his sides. “Just follow my lead.”

Nesta closed her eyes, and tilted her face to the moon. “Oh Goddess of the three faces, the mother, the maiden, the crone. I offer this body and this heart to be blessed with your power. Let your light feed my own fire. I ask you to let your power run through me, let mine grow, so mote it be.”

She looked down at Cassian, so solemn. The planes of his face were shadowed in the firelight, shadows dancing off the swells of muscle in his shoulders, arms, his back and chest. Her heart thudded when his heated gaze met hers, caressing her skin the way his hands would. Heat blossomed in her lower belly, her fire, awakening.

When she knelt, she noticed Cassian’s hands were twitching at his sides, almost as if he was holding himself back from touching her.

“Do you offer your body to the three faced Goddess,” Nesta murmured, “and to me, to complete this ritual?”

Cassian’s expression was neutral, but she could see the lust in his eyes. “I do.”

“And so mote it be,” Nesta murmured before surging forward to kiss him.

Cassian’s hands flew to her waist and neck, pulling her closer and into his lap. His lips met hers hungrily. Nesta settled into his lap, wrapping herself around his body.  _ I can’t get close enough... _

She could feel his cock growing hard against her inner thigh. But Cassian didn’t rush. He took his time, exploring her breasts with his hands and his mouth. His hands stroked the line of her spine from her shoulders to her ass, smoothing his rough palms around the curves. He traced the lines of her thighs, her calves and back up, to her stomach, her breasts.

Nesta sighed into the kiss.  _ This is Cassian, _ she reminded herself, chasing away any remaining hesitation.  _ This is what is meant for you. _

Cassian groaned when she shifted her hips on his lap, running her hands over his shoulders, his arms. “You’re beautiful.”

Nesta’s breathless laugh turned into a sharp inhale when he ran his hand down her stomach, inching towards her center.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Nesta gasped as his fingers parted her folds, seeking and finding her clit. “Goddess, yes.”

She leaned back so he could touch her better. Cassian traced around the edges of her folds And began drawing small circles around her clit with the pad of his finger. Nesta tilted her head back and began rocking ng her hips against his hand, bracing her hands on his shoulders. “That feels good,” she whispered, bending to kiss him again. “I need more, love.”

Cassian gently lifted her off his lap and pushed her back into the grass, cool and ticklish against her naked skin, inching down her body.

“What are you-”

“Shh,” he said, trailing his lips over her sternum, her belly button, down to the apex of her thighs. “Didn’t you say orgasms charged your powers?”

“Yes, but-”

When he grinned at her, it was almost wolfish, and Nesta shivered when she saw the desire in his eyes, nearly black with it. “Let’s see how many you can have.”

Nesta didn’t complain when he wedged his shoulders between her thighs, lowered his face to her, and began to lick at her pussy.

Nesta gasped and arched up against his mouth, grabbing at the hair at the back of his head to press him closer. After a moment, he slipped a finger, then another, into her sheath, and she wailed aloud at the sensation. So full. She’d never fingered herself much, but when she did, it had never felt as good as when Cassian did it.

“Cassian,” she moaned, unabashed at how tightly she clenched her thighs around his head.

He nipped gently at her clit, and she bucked her hips. Her eyes opened for a fraction, and she saw the moon, luminous and full above them. Already, her power began to sing. When Cassian thrust his fingers in and out of her, sucking at her clit, she wailed.

“Come on, Ness,” he murmured against her, his voice a delicious vibration against her skin. “Come for me, sweetheart.” He sealed his lips around her clit and sucked again. Nesta arched her back and came with a cry, calling his name up to the moon.

He licked her through the orgasm, even as she shuddered, gripping her twitching hips and licking until she began to peak toward a second.

“Cass,” Nesta gasped.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” he growled. “Pinch your nipples for me.”

Nesta moaned, gripping her breasts, fingertips dancing over her taut nipples, teasing the peaks with gentles tugs. She was approaching her second peak, just a few more thrusts of Cassian’s fingers, another swipe of his tongue and…

Cassian pulled himself away and Nesta reared up with a cry of protest. “What-”

But he was already bracing himself above her, all sleek muscle, and spread her open so he could meet her hips with his. When she felt his cock push into her, she tossed her head back against the grass, and groaned at the fullness.

“Okay?” Cassian grunted, breathless.

She nodded, tugging him down to her and moaned aloud when he slid completely in.

“Nesta,” he murmured against her lips, “God, you feel good.”

“Move,” she pressed on his ass with her palms, swiveling her hips to meet his. “Please.”

“Don’t wanna,” he said, instead opting for a slow grind of his hips against hers that put pressure on her oversensitive clit. Nesta’s gasp faded into a moan when he pressed his hips tightly against hers.

“Move, damn it,” she moaned, nearly approaching orgasm. “ _ Now _ .”

Cassian couldn’t help a smirk before pulling out almost to the tip, and thrusting back in to the root. Nesta gasped, and when he hooked an arm around her back to keep her in place, she cried aloud when his thrusts grew faster, harder. She draped her arms around his shoulders and arched up, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.

Cassian’s body, warm and heavy was a comforting weight above her. He fit in the cradle of her hips almost perfectly, and his cock was thick, hitting all the spots inside her, the friction hot and addictive. Each time they came together, it was always more intense than the last, heated and tender, desperate and passionate.

Cassian pressed his face into the hollow of her neck, and grunted with each thrust, crying out with Nesta in tandem.

“Harder,” she practically whined. “I need-”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he swiveled his hips again, reaching a hand to rub at her clit. “Come for me, beautiful.”

When Nesta came, she came with a long, keening wail. The orgasm, simmering in her core, burst, sending pleasure washing through her body. She shook, she cried. Cassian clung tighter, thrusting through it, until she lay against the grass, panting for breath, oversensitive and twitching. Cassian grunted, slamming his hips against hers once, twice, before he buried himself in her and groaned, long and loud, coming after her. Nesta felt the hot splash of his seed inside her. She gasped, her magic sparked.

Cassian pressed his face against her neck, resting his full bodyweight on her. He felt comforting and safe and  _ right _ , pressing her into the earth.

“Did we do it?” He muttered against her skin. “Do you feel any different?”

Nesta turned her head to watch the fire dancing around them in a ring. With an inhale and an exhale, the flames rose and fell, all at her silent command. But it was not enough.

“We’re close,” she said. And in the moonlight, with her power awakening, humming in her veins, she felt desire stirring again in her core, and clenched around Cassian. He jerked his hips in surprise, with a yelp and a groan. “Nesta, I need a min-”

At a whispered charm, he grew hard again, and Nesta hummed at the feeling.

“How?”

Nesta cackled, sitting up and disengaging him gently, pushing Casian to his back before he knew what had happened. “Witches have been doing this for centuries, they pick up tricks along the way.”

“What other tricks?” He asked, panting.

Nesta grinned. “Like this.”

She bent her head and sucked him deep. Cassian’s groan was more a growl, ripped from his throat, lost on the breeze.

“Sweetheart,” he moaned, hands in her hair. “Nesta,  _ shit _ , that’s so good-”

She took him in hand, setting a slow and steady pace, sucking deep. She glanced up, and nearly laughed when she saw Cassian throw his head back. Were his eyes crossed? They always were, if she sucked him just so…

When Nesta hummed, squeezing the base of him, Cassian jerked his hips. “Sweetheart, I’m going to come,” he warned her. She didn’t often enjoy him finishing in her mouth, preferring to finish him off with just her hands. But tonight, she felt free, uninhibited, a wave of lust prompting her to suck him deeper, swirling her tongue around his head. Cassian’s breathing quickened, his hands fisting in her hair, and his hips jerked again. He came in a long growl, and Nesta sucked deep, ignoring the salty-sour taste, swallowing fast. She hid a grimace and sat up.

“Come here,” Cassian said, tugging her up his body back into his lap. “Do the thing again-”

She whispered her charm in his ear, stroking his flaccid length until it grew thick and hard again in her palm.

They groaned in tandem as Nesta guided him to her core and sank to the root. She squeezed her muscles, and Cassian grunted. He gripped her waist and began to slide her up and down, thrusting up as she sank back down. When Nesta braced her hands on his shoulders, he lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking at the peak, massaging the other in his hand.

Nesta lost herself in the rhythm of their lovemaking, in the methodical rise and fall of her body against his, the smell of him, his arm gripping her tightly around her waist, pulling her into him with every thrust as if he was trying to get even closer.

Cassian watched her move above him, a goddess in the moonlight; hair wild, eyes hooded, her lush lower lip caught between her teeth. When she sank down, he reveled in the friction, the heat of her clenched tightly around him. 

With a growl, he tugged her up with a fist at the back of her hair, pulling her up, up, until he pulled out.

“Baby, what are you-” she was breathless, mindless with need.

“Hands and knees,” he said, gently guiding her back down to the earth. Nesta moved without protest, stretching her arms before her, chest to the ground, back arched, like an offering.

Cassian spread her legs further with his knees, kneeling behind her, running his hands over the curve of her ass, fisting his hand in her hair again.

“Cassian,” Nesta panted. “Sweetheart,  _ please _ , I need you-”

He thrust back in with a powerful snap of his hips against her behind, and she cried out, bracing herself against the earth. Nesta pushed back against him with every thrust, his other hand an iron grip around her hip.

“Yes, Cassian,” Nesta cried, and he loved how his name sounded on her lips. “I need-”

“What, sweetheart?” He asked, voice rough. “You need more?”

“Yes,  _ yes _ ,”

Another thrust, this one slow and powerful, rocking Nesta against the grass. “What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”

“Bastard,” Nesta grunted, and yelped when he pulled his hand back from her hip and swatted her on the ass, a sharp crack that echoed against the trees.

“Try again,” he said.

Nesta shivered. She was so used to gentle Cassian, tender Cassian, in bed. But this Cassian, this dominant, demanding Cassian… her clit ached to be touched, her nipples ached to be pinched. She wanted to come. She could feel it building, just out of reach. The pressure of his hand in her hair, gently pressing her against the earth sent a thrill of heat racing through her.

“Please, Cassian,” she said. “I need more, please make me come.”

Cassian growled, tightened his grip on her, and began to fuck her with hard, brutal thrusts.

It was glorious. Nesta tightened around him, as if enticing him to orgasm, rocking back into his hips with every thrust.

“Come again, sweetheart,” he growled. “I want to hear you. Touch yourself.”

Nesta reached a hand back to rub at her clit in desperate circles. She was close, so close…

Cassian let go of her hair and pushed her hand aside, stroking her with heavy swipes, the rough pads of his fingers glorious friction around her hardened bud. “I’m close, sweetheart, you better come now.” 

With one more heavy thrust, he surged into her body and spilled himself with a growl that turned into a shout, ripped from deep in his chest, and Nesta crested into orgasm.

She shook, she screamed, her core clenching tight around his cock as she came. She pressed her face against the earth and wailed as the tension burst in her center, sending tingling, hot sensations dancing through her body, until every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire. Everything went white and soundless, and all she was aware of was Cassian inside her.

She came to lying flat on her stomach against the grass, Cassian pressing his face against the back of her neck, a heavy and warm weight atop her.

“You okay?” He asked, nuzzling the shell of her ear. “Sweetheart? Was I too rough?”

When Nesta didn’t respond, he pulled back, flopping onto his back and tugging her into his arms. “Nesta?”

She hummed, smiling against his shoulder. “No, baby,” she said quietly. “You were great.”

Cassian traced gentle circles up and down her torso as her breathing evened out. “How do you feel?”

“Mmmm,” Nesta stretched, arching her breasts into his chest. “I feel better.” She held out a palm to the sky, concentrating. Cassian watched as a blue flame erupted in her hand, dancing, chasing the shadows from her face. “ _ Much _ better.” She closed her palm and extinguished the fyre, tilting her face to his. “Thank you.”

Cassian smiled wearily. “It wasn’t a hardship, Ness.”

“I love you,” she said, curling into his warmth.

“I love you too,” he said, pressing a kiss against her crown.

They lay there, in the circle of fyre, until Cassian began to shiver.

“Cold?” Nesta teased.

“No.” He yelped when Nesta grinned, reaching a hand between his legs.

“Hmm, seems like it to me.”

Before Cassian could roll her to her back and show her how  _ not _ cold he was, she was up, ring of fyre gone, and running to the house.

“If you catch me, I’ll warm you up,” she called, her laugh lost as she darted between the trees, hair streaming behind her, a naked figure clothed in moonlight.

Cassian growled and gave chase.

A squeal rang through the woods as he caught her, and then softer, gentle moans ringing through the trees, carried by the wind to the moon, a bright blessing above.

  
  



End file.
